


Merlin and the Owl

by Sioux



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 10:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sioux/pseuds/Sioux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever wondered how Merlin got to be associated with an owl?<br/>Ever wondered about the owl?<br/>PG-15 – For violence<br/>Set after the end of series three and before the beginning of series four.<br/>Previously on fanfiction.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merlin and the Owl

Merlin and the Owl  
By Sioux

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

‘Merlin! What kept you?’ Arthur laughed, breathing hard.

‘Nothing Sire,’ Merlin shouted then added under his breath, ‘Only a cheating clodpole who doesn’t race fairly.’

Pasting a smile on his face he rode forward, the four Knights with them dropping back to allow the Prince’s servant to ride next to his master.

Sir Leon grinned having heard the last part of Merlin’s comment. Whilst the Prince wasn’t the worst of masters he could, and did, take Merlin for granted.

‘Don’t be a bad loser Merlin,’ Arthur said, clapping him companionably on the back.

‘Bad loser? If it had been a fair race...’

‘Are you suggesting I cheated?’

‘Of course you cheated! Waiting until I’d got off my horse then yelling “Race you Merlin!”’

Arthur looked affronted.

‘But if you can’t handle losing to your servant that’s your problem.’

At the back of the line Sir Gawain said, to no-one in particular,

‘Almost makes me wish the King were still ill then we wouldn’t have to listen to the children squabbling.’

At that moment Merlin and Arthur set off on a wild gallop along the woodland track. Merlin’s horse, having the lighter rider and no metal swords to carry began to outstrip the Prince’s mount.

Sir Leon gathered his reins preparing to follow until Lancelot grabbed his arm.

‘We’ll catch up to them, let them let off a little steam while they have the chance.’

Unwillingly Sir Leon reined back.

‘They won’t get too far ahead and Arthur has Merlin with him,’ Lancelot continued.

Leon opened his mouth then shut it again, positive that Lancelot had that sentence the wrong way around but seeing no reason to correct a fellow Knight in public.

Percival smiled in his quiet way. He had observed the affection and trust between master and servant no matter how both of them tried to hide it.

Ducking low over his horse’s head Merlin was avoiding the whipping branches slowing his progress. Arthur was taking the blows on his jerkin, really just happy to be out in the fresh air, no pressing duties for a few hours and with good friends.

Merlin took a left fork blundering down the wider track way. Arthur looked ahead, seeing that the narrower path on the right met up with the main bridleway a little further up the hill and it cut off a bend making the distance shorter. Smiling craftily he plunged into the smaller path pushing his horse and leaning down over his head. The trees here met overhead making the path seem like a cool, green tunnel, although it was still replete with mosquitoes and biting midges. Irritably he slapped at the insects. 

In the near twilight neither Arthur nor his horse noticed the person shuffling along at the side, almost under the trees. With the faggot on its back and brown shapeless clothing it blended into the surroundings. A split second before horse and man were upon it Arthur saw the movement.

‘Look out!’ he shouted and pulled his mount the other way.

But it was too late; his horse’s hindquarters clipped the figure sending it sprawling on the damp undergrowth, Arthur and animal subsequently parting company very suddenly. The horse scrambled to his feet and shook his head, parodying Arthur’s attempt to get himself upright.

Sparing a glance to check his horse and take his bridle Arthur strode forward to the small figure still trying to get to its feet, the weight of the branches holding it on its back. It grunted and squealed like a small pig all the while, small grubby hands flailing around.

‘Are you hurt?’ Arthur asked.

The figure squealed once more, gasped then glared up at him from the depths of a voluminous hood. The face was a little younger than he’d anticipated but the expression was ferocious enough for a warrior.

‘Are you hurt, Mother?’ he asked again, offering his hand.

She took it, and with a grunt and a good pull on his arm managed to get into a seated position.  
Deftly he undid the thin rope and let the faggot fall from her as she tried to get her breath back.

‘Help me up!’ she ordered imperiously, holding out her birdlike hand.

Hiding his amusement Arthur did as he was bade, gently helping her to her feet and holding onto the small woman until she had her balance again. As soon as she could stand unaided she drew back her hood to reveal hair that had once been blonde but was now more white than gold. Her blue eyes raked him from head to foot before she said,

‘Thank you Lordling, but you should be more careful when riding through these woods.’

He smiled as he replied,

‘I’ll bear that in mind, Mother.’

The woman turned her head to look past him towards the sound of horse’s hooves and crashing branches. 

Through the trees Arthur could see a flash of blue and a red scarf tied around the rider’s neck as he rode far too fast through the trees on the narrow path. 

Merlin pulled his horse to a sudden stop as he saw Arthur standing at the side of the path. His horse immediately reared up and deposited his rider on the ground. That done he nosed at Arthur’s horse then they both began to peacefully crop the grass at their feet.

Arthur turned to the woman who had dodged into the shelter of a tree. She was peering around the trunk, her eyes round at the sight of Merlin sitting, stunned, on the forest floor.

‘Don’t any of you know how to stay on a horse?’ she finally asked.

Before he could answer the sound of more hooves could be heard traversing the narrow path, the woman prudently moved back into the lee of the venerable tree.

Lancelot was first at the scene closely followed by Sir Leon.

‘Sire?’ Leon questioned, quickly sliding from his mount, his hand hovering around his sword.

Arthur held up his hand.

‘I’m fine,’ he said, striding forward and holding out his hand to Merlin to get him to his feet.

‘What happened?’Lancelot asked.

‘Merlin couldn’t stay on his horse,’ Arthur replied, deliberately not catching the woman’s eye. ‘We umm disturbed this good woman going about her business,’ he continued.

Merlin couldn’t take his eyes off the woman, his skin tingling, his senses alert.

‘Do you live far, Mother? May we escort you home?’

‘Perhaps it would be safer Lordling,’ she replied, her eyes twinkling. ‘What with all these young men gallivanting around not looking where they’re going.’

Sir Leon hid a grin in his beard.

‘Merlin and I will meet up with you at Hawkwell Head, at around midday,’ Arthur said turning away and offering the woman his arm.

‘Mother?’

‘Thank you Child,’ she replied, laying her hand on his arm. As her hand touched his skin she gasped and shivered.

‘Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?’ he asked quickly.

She shook herself lightly and smiled up at him, her eyes rather shiny. ‘Old age and infirmity,’ she replied firmly. ‘Nothing more.’

Merlin gazed after the two figures making their slow way along the flank of the hill, his face creased in puzzlement. He could sense magic all around him but at the same time he couldn’t believe that tiny little peasant woman was the source.

‘Merlin, bring the horses,’ Arthur shouted back to him.

When the young man didn’t immediately move Sir Leon asked, ‘Are you alright, Merlin?’

‘Yes, I’m fine.’ But still he didn’t move. 

Lancelot put a hand on his shoulder, his eyes concerned and asking questions. Merlin shrugged. It wasn’t anything he could put his finger on.

‘Don’t forget the wood,’ Arthur sang back to him, smiling sweetly at his bemused servant.

‘He’s definitely the same as normal,’ Merlin muttered.

‘And you wouldn’t have him any other way,’ Lancelot teased.

‘I’d like to try,’ Merlin replied, picking up the faggot of branches. A moment of devilment had him loading it onto Arthur’s horse not his own.

Once back at her humble cottage, somehow, without knowing quite how it happened, the woman had Arthur quite happily chopping and stacking logs for her fire, a task he wouldn’t normally be seen dead doing, and she had Merlin taking buckets and going to the stream to fill a huge stone jar with water.

After Merlin’s first trip she had pressed a beaker of a hot herb based drink into their hands. Arthur wasn’t going to touch it until he saw how Merlin was guzzling the contents. After taking a tiny sip he was surprised at how nice it tasted and how refreshing. Both set to work with renewed enthusiasm afterwards.

Arthur stacked the cut logs where she indicated, then stretched the kinks from his shoulders and wiped his face. He would never admit it but he felt quite serene carrying out simple tasks for this woman, one of the lowliest of his father’s subjects. However, a familiar, taunting voice soon dispelled his relaxed mood.

‘Goleudith, I’m impressed with the calibre of your wood cutter.’ 

Morgeuse smiled down at them both, her attempt at geniality missing its mark. Her face was pulled down slightly on the right hand side, spoiling its previously beautiful symmetry. Her gait showed a distinct favouring of that leg too when she took several steps closer.

The woman, Goleudith, looked up and sighed.

‘I told your bastard half-sister she should have come to me to treat that injury instead of trying to heal you herself. You would be walking and talking perfectly by now.’

Morgeuse’ mouth turned down even more in a sneering, contemptuous snarl.

‘You, old woman? I learned all I could from you many years ago and found you wanting.’

‘Or perhaps the lessons were not to your taste as they involved putting back together that which time and nature take apart.’

Arthur, by this point, had managed to put himself between Morgeuse and Goleudith.

‘Go back into your cottage, I’ll deal with her,’ he said quietly to Goleudith.

The older woman smiled, the lines on her face creasing into an expression of compassion.

‘Child, I’ve been dealing with her since before you were born.’

Arthur risked a look at the older woman who calmly stepped out in front of him, shielding him with her own body.

‘Leave this land Morgeuse, we have nothing more to say to each other. And make sure your snivelling half-sister stays away too.’

‘She is my sister, my true sister!’ Morgeuse spat back.

‘She is the bastard child of Uther Pendragon, nothing more,’ Goleudith replied calmly. 

Morgeuse’ mouth tried to turn itself into a sticky, sweet smile whilst Arthur schooled his face to neutrality. 

‘At least my sister recognises family when she encounters them, more than can be said for your nephew there.’

Arthur glanced between the two women, suddenly feeling very much out of his depth. Why on earth would Morgeuse mistake this small, grubby, peasant woman for a relative of his?

‘Leave here Morgeuse,’ Goleudith ordered. ‘Your presence sickens me.’

‘Perhaps we should ask your guest if he wishes to speak to his sister? She’ll be along soon.’

‘You heard her, Morgeuse, leave here,’ Arthur replied, backing up the older woman. He was also praying that Morgeuse would be too caught up with her malicious teasing to hear the sound of a body crashing through the undergrowth in their direction. 

His prayers were not answered that day.

Merlin, his face carefully blank, was thrown to his knees at Morgeuse’ feet.

‘I bring you a present, Sister. And I see you’ve already found the other mis-begotten twin to this one.’ 

Arthur took a hasty step forward but checked at Merlin’s barely perceptible head shake and grimace as the point of Morgana’s sword dug deeper into his back.

‘You have come up in the world, Morgana,’ Arthur shouted across to her. ‘Skulking in the woods, preying on servants.’

‘Oh Merlin isn’t just any servant, Arthur, he’s your servant,’ she replied, smiling down at him.

‘And not a very good one,’ he said.

‘Then you won’t mind watching as I run him through,’ she answered sweetly, drawing back her sword arm.

‘No! Morgana, no! What has ever done to hurt you?’

‘Oh, you’d be surprised, Arthur, at what your servant has done to me!’ she replied, all pretence at civility evaporating like morning frost before the sun.

‘Arthur, get away from here,’ Goleudith whispered to him. ‘Take your horse and ride back to your men.’

‘I won’t leave Merlin behind,’ he whispered back in the same undertone.

‘Sister, wait,’ Morgeuse said. Then she leaned forward and whispered something in Morgana’s ear. Morgana’s clear laugh echoed in the clearing.

‘What a wonderful idea!’

Merlin began to struggle for a few seconds until Morgeuse whispered words of enchantment which paralysed his body and left him facing the Prince, his eyes wide and fearful.

‘What have you done to him?’ Arthur shouted, seeing the unnatural stillness.

‘Just a simple spell to stop him struggling, after all, we wouldn’t want him to hurt himself, would we?’ Morgeuse replied. Her saccharin tones making Arthur feel faintly nauseous.

You can have your precious Merlin back, Arthur, if you can find him. But, the longer it takes you, the closer to death he becomes,’ Morgana said, the smile on her face belying the horror of her words.

Arthur opened his mouth to shout but wasn’t as quick as Morgeuse who raised her hand throwing a spell at the older woman and young man on the hill below her. 

To his intense surprise the spell was deftly returned by Goleudith, the force of which put Morgeuse on her backside in the dirt. The look she directed at the older woman was pure venom.

‘Morgeuse, no,’ Morgana shouted leaning down and putting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. Morgeuse followed suit, their eyes glowing the same eerie gold. 

Morgeuse began to speak, the words gathering strength. Beside him Arthur felt Goleudith raise her arm and chant too, the words a mystery to him, but the action wasn’t. The older woman at his side was hurling a spell at the other two women. Morgeuse abruptly shut up as she and her sister were thrown backwards by the force of Goldeudith’s spell. 

As soon as the words left her lips Goldeudith began to chant again, this time pointing at Merlin. 

Working as one, Morgana and Morgeuse whispered, the sibilant sound snaking through the air, their eyes turning gold then Goleudith was flung several feet backwards and off her feet. Taking advantage, the two women held tight to Merlin.

Stunned, Arthur could do nothing in this type of battle but stand and stare. Seeing what he thought was a chance he began to run towards Merlin, knowing that if he got near enough he could wrest his servant away from Morgana and her sister.

In the very few seconds since he’d begun his ascent towards Merlin, Morgeuse and Morgana were whispering words of magic again.

Merlin took a last look at Arthur, a tear escaping from the corner of his eye, leaving a silvery trail down his face. He couldn’t even whisper goodbye.

A wind gathered around the three of them, the air thick with dust and unnatural noise as it whirled in a circle, breaking small branches from surrounding trees and tearing up grasses and soil. As soon as it began, it was over. The clearing as quiet as it was empty.

Arthur slid his sword back into his belt, dusted himself off and stomped over to Goleudith who was just getting to her feet.

‘That little display would normally cost you your life. Magic is outlawed in Camelot.’

‘Then it’s lucky we’re not in Camelot,’ she snapped.

‘What do you mean we’re not in Camelot? And how do you know who I am and why does Morgeuse think you’re related to me?’

‘One always recognises family,’ she told him with a soft snort. ‘Look around you. Camelot’s border stops at the bridleway below. Cenred’s former kingdom started at the ridge above us, before you and your father annexed that land too. This long, narrow strip of land between is not part of Uther’s lands.’

‘Who rules here? And what do you mean family? I’ve never seen you before today,’ Arthur asked, thinking she was possibly as deranged as Morgeuse.

‘I do.’

Arthur’s surprise lasted a moment before he burst out laughing.

‘Of course you do.’ He realised at once he’d been correct in his supposition, the woman didn’t have all her faculties.

She glared at him before beginning to speak.

‘This land and much more belonged to your maternal grandfather who left it between his three children. Your father annexed your mother’s and our brother’s portion, after he’d killed him in a duel. I still own this part.’

‘What?’

She smiled softly at his shocked expression before continuing.

‘You do know me. You probably won’t remember though. The last time I saw you, you were just a few weeks old. Your father had just begun his quest to rid his kingdom of anyone who knew and practised magic.’ Her eyes took on a far away cast as if she was staring down the years. Quietly she continued, ‘You stared up at me when I kissed you goodbye and you were crying as hard as I was. I was being forced to leave the last link I had to my beloved sister, Igraine.’ She paused. ‘I never dared hope to see you again.’

Arthur was stunned into silence for a few seconds.

‘You’re asking me to believe you’re my aunt?’

She glanced up at him. ‘I’m not asking you to believe anything, I’m just telling you the facts. I came to stay with my sister, the Queen, to aid her when it came time for her to give birth. I supported her as she held you in her arms, you looked up at her, she smiled at you and then she died in my arms. I helped to care for you for the first few weeks of your life.’

‘It’s not exactly a secret that my mother died in childbirth,’ Arthur told her coolly.

She shrugged.

‘You have a birthmark at the top of your right thigh and a tiny scar about here.’ She pointed to her right collarbone. ‘It’s from where the surgeon’s knife slipped and cut you as he was separating you from your mother. Your father had the man taken out and hanged.’

Arthur absently fingered the tiny white ‘V’ shaped scar on his shoulder. He’d accepted the scar as something he’d been born with.

‘How did you know it was me? You haven’t laid eyes on me for over twenty years,’ he finally asked, thoughtfully, still not totally convinced.

She nodded down the hill. ‘When you helped me up, I felt the.. connection, for want of a better word. I knew it was you.’ She sat down on the grass at her feet. ‘I think you must have felt something too…’

‘No! I have nothing whatsoever to do with magic. It’s outlawed,’ he told her harshly, holding his head up and becoming the arrogant Prince in an instant.

‘So you often chop wood for your father’s peasants without a murmur of complaint? Your name may be Pendragon but you have Du Bois blood running in your veins, just like me. You did feel something.’

‘You’re not the first to try and trick me with enchantments about my mother,’ he told her. ‘Morgeuse has already tried that.’

She smiled slightly.

‘There’s a huge difference between me and Morgeuse. She was probably trying to find some way of disposing of you and your father and claiming the kingdom herself. I couldn’t care less about Camelot. Your father and I came to an understanding a long time ago. He leaves me alone and I leave him and his alone, until now, when his son came wandering onto my land.’ 

Uncomfortable and stunned with Goleudith’s revelations Arthur toed at loose dirt and flattened grasses.

‘Was my mother like you? Did she practise magic?’ he finally asked.

‘I realise this is going to be hard to believe but before you were born Uther was a believer. Camelot welcomed people like us. It was only after your mother died that Uther changed. We thought him deranged with grief and that it would pass, but it didn’t. He visited the most awful atrocities on us.’

Arthur opened his mouth to argue but Goleudith held up her finger.

‘Do not repeat what that man has hammered into you all these years. Not here. And to answer your question, no, Igraine didn’t have the gift. She didn’t need it. She was the gentlest, most loving woman in the world, and…’ Goleudith stopped speaking and swallowed hard, brushing her hand across her cheeks.

Arthur looked away, embarrassed to be a witness to twenty-three year old grief.

‘Forgive me Arthur, I just wanted to spend a few minutes with the little boy I used to look after. I wanted to see what kind of man you had grown into. If I hadn’t given in to my weakness you would not have been here when Morgeuse came by. And your servant would still be safe with you.’

There was silence for a few minutes, each one pre-occupied in their own thoughts.

‘You’ve been forced to live here ever since my father banished you?’

She smiled a little bitterly and negligently waved her hand. 

‘It’s not so bad.’

As if seeing her cottage through a heat haze, it shimmered and wavered, making Arthur feel dizzy. Then the picture finally steadied again, in place of the lowly cottage stood a substantial stone built house, sturdy, two storied, a broad frontage, wings at each side, with mullioned windows and a large oak door studded with metal. The woman herself was dressed with neatness and propriety in rich garments of velvet and gauzes, as befitted an older gentlewoman of noble birth.

‘It’s very hard to subdue a neighbouring ruler and annex their land if you can’t see what you are attacking,’ she told him, getting to her feet.

He took a step backwards in surprise then recovered himself.

‘Will you please stop doing that!’ he hissed. ‘I do not, I cannot, condone the use of magic,’ he told her coldly.

She glanced behind her, assessing him.

‘And I could be lying to you and all I have shown you just a cheap illusion.’

‘Yes,’ he said, grabbing onto the idea with both hands. ‘It probably is.’

She nodded then pointed across to her right and down the hill.

‘You’ll find the rest of your men down there. I believe they’re riding towards Hawkwell Head. You may as well take Merlin’s horse with you, he won’t be needing it.’

After a considering pause, Arthur said decisively,

‘No. I need to find Merlin first.’

‘You told Morgana he wasn’t a very good servant.’

‘He’s the worst servant I’ve ever had,’ Arthur replied with feeling, straightening his clothes and walking towards the tethered horses.

‘Then leave him with Morgana and Morgeuse. They’ll grow bored with torturing him eventually and let him die.’

‘No!’ Then he repeated himself more quietly, ’No, I won’t leave him to die at their hands.’

Goldeudith shrugged and made her way towards her home.

‘Wait!’

She stopped but didn’t turn around.

Arthur coughed, not really wanting to ask for help but knowing he needed help to find Merlin.

‘Do you know where they would have taken him?’

She turned her head and looked at him with compassion.

‘No, I don’t know.’

Arthur closed his eyes, crestfallen.

‘But I can find out,’ she added.

‘Using..’

‘…Magic, yes.’

‘I don’t…’

‘I heard you the first several times Arthur. If you really want to find Merlin, whilst he still has breath in his body, in your shoes, I’d take all the help I was offered.’

Not waiting for his answer she strode forward and into the building, the heavy door swinging back gracefully for her entrance then, seeming to wait for Arthur to make up his mind, it remained open.

Hesitantly Arthur followed her into the dim interior wrinkling his nose a little at the strong smell of drying herbs and damp fur.

The pile of fur near the fire in the hall rose up and turned to face him. He instinctively drew his sword under the steady yellow eyed regard of the large wolf.

At a murmured comment from the woman the wolf looked Arthur up and down, as if committing him to memory then he opened his mouth, his tongue lolling, looking almost as if he were smiling at the Prince.

‘You will have no need for your sword in this house, Arthur, not whilst we’re under the protection of Lowell.’

‘Lowell?’

She nodded at the animal.

If anything he wolf’s smile got wider as Arthur, following the woman, carefully skirted the edge of the long, wide hall. Keeping a discrete distance the wolf followed them. Arthur was so busy keeping his attention on the curiously well mannered animal that he failed to pay attention to where he was going. Suddenly the light level increased as he was led through a doorway into a handsome room.

‘Welcome to our home,’ she said quietly and formally.

In the few seconds that his attention had wandered a bearded man, his dark hair loose and a friendly smile on his well shaped lips had appeared behind him. The man was casually adjusting a blanket around himself. It was only then that Arthur realised the man was naked under the blanket. He grinned at Arthur’s shock, bowed ironically and left the room, disappearing through a door to their right. Of the wolf there was no sign.

Wildly Arthur looked around him.

‘Where’s he gone?’

‘Lowell is free to go wherever he chooses,’ she replied placidly taking a mirror from a chest and placing it on the dark wood table which graced the middle of the room. Reflections of the cheery fires burning in hearths at each end of the apartment danced in the deeply polished wood.

‘I meant where did that wolf go and who is the man?’ 

He knew he wasn’t going to get an answer when she asked,

‘Do you carry anything which belongs to your servant?’

‘No. Why would you need something belonging to him?’

‘Makes it easier to concentrate on him so we can find him.’

‘We’ll just have to do the best we can between us,’ a man’s voice chimed in. 

Arthur reacted by reaching for his sword until he saw it was the man he had encountered a few minutes earlier, now, thankfully, decently dressed. He was also unarmed and carrying a tray with cups and a jug of wine.

The man pointed to a chair next to Goleudith.

‘Please sit,’ he said as he poured the wine.

Instead Arthur asked,

‘And you are?’

‘I’m Lowell,’ the young man replied. ‘You met me earlier,’ he added helpfully.

‘I met a …’ he failed to finish the sentence when Lowell smiled at him, his very sharp looking teeth showing very white against the dark of his beard, his yellowish hazel eyes crinkling at the corners in merriment.

‘Please cousin, sit. You are in no danger here. We only want to help you to find your servant.’

Stunned, Arthur sat down next to his aunt. 

‘He’s your son?’

Goleudith looked with pride at her large offspring and smiled.

‘You also met him many years ago when you were a baby.’

His large cousin having handed him and his mother a cup of wine each, stood behind them. Arthur kept looking, out of the corner of his eye, at his cousin’s very hairy hands and his nails, which were filed to a point and curved down over the ends of his fingers slightly. Absently he took a large gulp of the wine.

‘Take more wine Arthur, it will help you relax.’

Too late he looked down at the cup in his hand, noticing a faintly herbal aroma. His aunt drained her cup and placed it on the table.

‘It’s not poisoned,’ Lowell said, seemingly able to read his thoughts. ‘It’s simply been laced with a herb which will help you relax and concentrate better.’ 

Lowell had already placed a large meaty hand gently on the top of his mother’s head. He raised his eyebrows asking silent permission from Arthur.

Arthur looked down into the ruby depths trying to remember how, in the space of a few short hours, he had gone from Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Camelot, who had no truck with magic, to the nephew of a Witch and cousin to a Shapeshifter. Pushing down his panic he looked up and nodded slightly deciding that as soon as he had got Merlin back to the Citadel he was going to give in and have the nervous breakdown which he could feel creeping up on him. He emptied the cup, unconsciously waiting for pain to begin but all he felt was heat from Lowell’s hand on his head. So, they were telling the truth, about the wine at any rate.

Goleudith had her hands around the base of the mirror. The reflective surface of which was growing cloudy and dull.

‘Has Merlin served you long?’ Lowell asked.

‘Four or five years.’

‘Has he always served the Pendragon’s?’

‘No. He was to be apprenticed to the Court Physician.’

‘How did he become your servant?’ 

‘He saved my life. My father rewarded him with a position in my household.’

As Arthur told Lowell this, he began to see shapes forming in the mirror, the cloudiness dispersing. He saw the old Witch, Mary Collins, throwing the knife at him with her dying breath, Merlin pulling him out of its path. Then images of how he and Merlin had fought through the lower town market place. His lips curved in a smile. How much younger they both looked then. He glanced at Goleudith. She was concentrating on the mirror, her eyes the same unnatural gold he had seen with Morgana and Morgeuse. He looked up to see Lowell’s eyes the same shade of gold as his mother’s. Arthur closed his own eyes against the sight. Uther must never, ever, find out about this!

‘Please Arthur, keep remembering,’ Lowell said quietly, the smile on his face looked so at odds with the gold shining in his eyes.

Obediently Arthur recalled Merlin telling him about Knight Valiant’s use of magic in the tournament, the plague which affected Camelot through the water supply then Merlin drinking the poisoned chalice to save his life, yet again, and his own dash, against the wishes of his father, to fetch the plant which would save him. Lancelot kneeling at his feet before his test, more images of Lancelot fighting at his side, always Merlin at his side too. Merlin seated to his right at the round table, Merlin taking care of Uther when he’d become ill and wandering in his wits. Merlin seated with him on the steps of the castle refusing to clean his boots for him whilst they waited for the Knights to being back Gwen. All of the images were taken from his memory and faithfully replayed on the mirror. Then the mirror seemed to shudder, the images taking on a life of their own. A landscape utterly devoid of life; no grass, trees or crops. Grey rocks reflecting the burning heat of the sun. Crumbling buildings, obviously long deserted. No sign of a river or even a stream or spring.

‘The Valley of Desolation,’ Lowell murmured, his eyes glued to the sight.

The name was apt, although Arthur could not remember Merlin and himself going to that god-forsaken place. His eye was drawn to movement at the top of one of the more solid looking structures. Morgeuse was crouched in front of Merlin, in his eye line. He wasn’t bound but he wasn’t moving either although his eyes were open. Morgana had just placed a bucket full of water well out of his reach on the other side of the room under a wooden shelf where a bottle lay on its side. Both women laughed then Morgeuse arranged Merlin so that the only thing he could see would be the bucket. She then took off a pendant from around her neck and placed it around Merlin’s neck. Joining hands the women left the building in a flurry of dust and wind, causing stones to fall from the walls and roof around Merlin, but he still didn’t move, didn’t even react. Suddenly Arthur knew he was still paralysed.

Goleudith took her hands from the mirror, which stopped the images.

‘Well we know where. Is it far? How do we get there?’ Arthur asked, as Lowell removed his hand from the top of his head.

Goleudith shook her head.

‘You’re telling me you can’t get there?’

‘No,’ Lowell answered. ‘It’s not as easy as just getting there. Morgeuse may have booby trapped that building and we don’t know what will set it off, also,’ Lowell paused then continued, his voice dropping, ‘It may already be too late for him.’

‘They’ve not been gone more than an hour yet, I refuse to believe it’s already too late. You’re both trying to trick me! What is it you want to take me there? Money?’

‘Arthur, the Valley is a place of Magic. It was once a place of beauty and peace in the before times. Now it hurries on to its own destruction,’ Goleudith explained.

‘I don’t understand you. What do you mean?’ Arthur asked, his temper fraying.

‘Time passes differently there. One hour here, can be several days there. You must prepare yourself, he may already be close to death,’ Lowell replied, his eyes quite clearly showing his concern for the young man trapped in the building.

‘Merlin can survive a couple of days in that building! Despite appearances, he’s quite strong.’

‘Not in those conditions,’ Lowell said. ‘The heat is unbearable when the sun comes up and it is so cold at night, frost gathers thickly on the rocks. It is so cold there snow cannot fall at night time. They left him paralysed, so he can’t reach the water in the bucket, neither can he take shelter from the sun or the cold.’

Arthur stopped moving and looked stricken.

‘He’ll die of thirst?’

Lowell nodded. ‘A very cruel death.’

‘You said they’ve left him paralysed. Will he still feel it?’

Goleudith nodded slowly. ‘He’ll feel everything Arthur. The burning of the sun when it clears the building and the frost and bitter cold at night. He just can’t move to help himself.’

‘Can you take me there? If you want money I’ll get it to you, just get me there,’ he begged.

‘We don’t want anything Arthur. And we will get you there.’

‘Thank you,’ he said sincerely, drawing a deep breath.

‘You’d better take the horses around to the stables, we can’t take them with us. Whilst you do that we’ll gather supplies,’ Lowell said, taking charge.

Arthur looked somewhat taken aback at being charged with stabling his own horse but remembering his manners he set off to get his and Merlin’s horses under cover.

As soon as Arthur was out of earshot Lowell turned to his mother and asked,

‘Alright, explain to me why we are going to so much trouble to retrieve my dear cousin’s servant?’

‘You want to see him die like that?’

‘No, but we’ve been left alone all these years because we don’t interfere. Why suddenly get involved?’

‘She’s locked the spell with the pendant. It won’t wear off and he won’t be able to free himself even though he does have powerful magic.’

‘I think any blind half-wit can feel Merlin is powerful, the magic seeps from his bones and stop turning the question. Why him?’

‘We don’t want that particular servant to die.’

He directed a penetrating look at his parent.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be putting together supplies?’ she asked, hoping to divert him.

He waved his hand and the nearer end of the table immediately filled with water skins, swords, white, light cotton hooded cloaks designed to keep the sun from the wearer. Cheese, bread and a packet of healing herbs and thick blankets, enough for four completed the pile. Two back-packs and two panniers appeared. As he was talking the supplies quickly and carefully packed themselves away.

‘What’s so special about him? We know he’s one of our kind, even if our doltish relative hasn’t realised it yet.’

‘Think about where he’s been living. Would you let the son of the chief persecutor know you practised magic?’

‘Alright, so he keeps his mouth shut and powers hidden. He’s not the only one to do that.’

‘We need to save him and help Arthur because I think he’s going to be important. For us as well as the Prince. I think he’s the one spoken about in the prophecies. I think he’s Emrys. And I think Arthur is the once and future King.’

Lowell’s eyebrows threatened to crawl off the top of his head.

‘When did you gain the sight?’

She laughed. ‘I have no prescience, but I do study the old writings and his power! Even you knew he has magic.’

‘He’s certainly powerful but he may not be Emrys.’

Goleudith gave her son a look of scorn.

‘Alright,’ he agreed. ‘The evidence is compelling. So why does Morgeuse want to destroy the man who will bring magic back? It’s in all our interests to keep him alive.’

‘I don’t think she knows. She never could sense power in others of our kind and as she cannot do that, I don’t believe the Witch, Morgana, can either. Also, I think Morgeuse is arrogant enough to believe she is Emrys, especially now with her Royal connection.’

Lowell laughed mirthlessly. ‘Oh, this is going to be interesting!’

The walking was harder work than Arthur expected. Although all three were covered in light cloaks which reflected the heat away, it was still very, very hot. Not a breath of air stirred anywhere. He tried not to think about the way they had gotten to this point, even the memory had the power to make him feel sick. Man was not meant to travel in that fashion, he’d decided, although he was extremely glad he hadn’t shamed himself and actually vomited on arrival. Lowell and Goleudith had transported them all to the head of the valley so they could walk in. That way their arrival wouldn’t be seen by Morgeuse. They had been walking for over an hour now, sweat evaporated instantly in the dry heat and Arthur had gone beyond thirsty within the first couple of miles. His thoughts went to Merlin who had endured this heat without shelter or water for longer than he knew. Unconsciously he quickened his pace.

‘Look!’ Lowell said, pointing ahead.

A smudge on the horizon which danced in the heat haze soon resolved itself into the outskirts of the village.

‘I’ll scout ahead,’ Lowell said, divesting himself of his cloak, panniers and clothing.

Arthur turned away whilst Goleudith merely picked up the discarded clothes and folded them as her son launched himself into the air with a raucous cry. The large bird flew swiftly up the valley, riding the thermals, ranging far on either side of the path they were following.

‘What kind of bird is that?’ Arthur asked, opening a water skin and taking a healthy gulp.

‘One suited to this type of climate. Far beyond the shores of Albion there are many places like this, those birds gather wherever dead, or soon to be dead, meat is to be found. When we travelled to the desert kingdoms when Lowell was a child we saw flocks of them gather over a dying horse. Almost before the poor creature had expired they moved in to feast.’

‘So Morgeuse isn’t likely to suspect the bird is other than what it appears.’

‘She will if the bird is on its own for any length of time.’ 

So saying Goleudith knelt and picked up a handful of sand from the ground. She waved her hand over it then gently blew the grains away. Each grain left her hand then turned a darker colour and grew until there was a veritable avalanche of large, dark birds following the first one. As Arthur watched, the real and the illusionary began to circle over the remains of the village. Some of the birds landed on the walls or remained in slow flight, circling in random patterns. After a short while one flew back towards them, it landed on the path ahead and shook itself growing and changing. Goleudith stepped in front of Arthur and handed her son his breeches and cloak.

‘He’s still there. They’ve warded the whole village, I felt it when I flew through.’

‘Will it stop us?’ Arthur asked.

‘No, it’s to warn them of visitors not to stop anyone. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if Morgeuse has an ambush arranged.’

Goleudith asked the question Arthur wanted to.

‘How does he look?’

Lowell licked his lips but didn’t answer her question. He held his hand out to Arthur for the water skin and took a long drink.

‘He’s still alive?’ Arthur asked, worried beyond measure at the other’s silence.

‘For now,’ Lowell replied shortly. ‘He’s very badly sunburned, Arthur. Morgeuse left him with his eyes open, I think the sun has blinded him.’

Arthur closed his own eyes at the news. His lips thinning to a white line. He heard Goleudith whisper, ‘Poor child.’

‘Do you hunt with dogs Arthur?’ Lowell asked.

‘What?’

‘Dogs, do you have a dog-pack?’

‘Yes, of course, but what…?’

‘They’ll be expecting us but we don’t have to tell them our numbers, do we? We’ll escort you there and keep those two away whilst you go in and grab Merlin. If he can be moved, get him outside then we need to get out of here quickly.’

Lowell poured out the rest of the water into the dirt at his feet. Quickly both he and his mother took handfuls of the wet mud and rolled it into balls, five in total.

‘We need to travel light and get there fast, leave the packs here, put the panniers on me when I change,’ Lowell instructed. ‘You’d better close your eyes now.’

‘Why?’ Arthur asked.

‘You don’t condone the use of magic, do you?’ Lowell replied cheekily.

Arthur opened his mouth to protest but was left facing a grinning wolf-hound. Beside the first, five more sprang from the balls of mud and milled around. Goleudith handed Arthur a smaller bag.

‘Keep that with you, I will need it later,’ she instructed taking off her cloak. 

‘What’s in it, healing herbs?’ 

‘No, clothes,’ she replied succinctly.

Suddenly Goleudith was no longer there, a seventh hound with lots of grey in its brindled coat, stood in her place. It wriggled and stepped out of Goleudith’s garments fixing Arthur with a forbidding stare. Arthur managed a sickly smile and averted his gaze, a tide of red creeping up towards his hairline. The first hound butted his legs. After having the panniers fixed on him the dog bayed and set off towards the village, the rest of the pack, with Arthur in the rear, sword drawn, following on at a good clip.

Arthur was breathing hard, sweat soaking his hair and pouring down his face and body by the time he and the pack swept into the remains of the village. He wasted no time though in plunging through the doorway and going up the uneven broken stone stairs.

Merlin was wedged into the corner of the roofless room on the left at the top of the stairs. Arthur had to suppress a gasp. His normally very pale face and hands were burnt red like raw meat and badly blistered but the worst was his eyes. Instead of the usual deep blue, the iris and cornea were milky. Not knowing where to touch his servant that wouldn’t hurt him, he did the only thing he could think of and took off the pendant, grinding the hated object under his heel. Merlin screamed, his body released, as tears washed over his burning eyes and skin. 

Arthur fetched the bucket of water, unhooking the tin cup on its side. He held the liquid to Merlin’s cracked lips encouraging him to drink but Merlin’s mind was too far gone in pain and fever for him to understand. He turned his head this way and that, trying to move the cup away.

Outside Arthur could hear the hounds snarling, barking and trying to bite, over that noise he could hear two women’s voices. He grinned mirthlessly then returned his attention to his servant.

‘Merlin, it’s me, Arthur. You must drink.’

‘No, no, can’t,’ he whispered brokenly.

Arthur held the back of Merlin’s head and tipped the cup letting the water flow into his mouth. Merlin choked a little at first then began to drink greedily. After he’d got two cups of water down him, he counselled,

‘Slowly now.’ 

‘Arthur?’ Merlin whispered.

‘Yes, I’m here.’

‘Arthur, Arthur, where are you? I can’t see you.’

‘Hush, it’s alright, I’m right here. You need to drink a little more.’

‘Too hot,’ he muttered, his head moving restlessly then he whimpered when his burnt skin touched Arthur’s sleeve.

Mentally calling down all the curses he could think of on the two women outside he once again tipped the cup to Merlin’s lips, who obediently drank.

Outside Morgeuse’ eyes burned briefly golden then she looked at her sister saying,

‘It is done.’

Morgana smiled back then they both began to carefully back away from the baying hounds. As they did so Morgana lifted up her voice so it would carry.

‘Merlin! What does it feel like to be poisoned by a friend?’

She laughed out loud, the sound shattering the heat into shards of cold, cruel, cutting pain.

Gently Arthur lowered Merlin back to lean against the wall then looked from the glassless window at his half-sister, watching as she mockingly saluted him, her eyes sparking and her smile still in place.

Horrified his attention was recalled very suddenly as Merlin began to shake and shudder uncontrollably, a thin trail of blood running from between his tightly clenched teeth over his lips and down his chin. Comprehension of Morgana’s words blossomed in his mind; the water in the bucket had been poisoned and he’d just forced it down Merlin’s throat.

Arthur could only try and hold his friend as seizures racked his body, blood flecked foam, spittle and blood ran across his face as the poison took hold. As Merlin lay dying in his arms Arthur didn’t even hear the rustle as the parcel of clothes was opened, donned and Goleudith entered quickly going to the other side of Merlin.

‘I didn’t know,’ Arthur gasped, tears shinning in his eyes. ‘He tried to tell me but I thought he was raving.’

‘How could you know Arthur,’ Goleudith replied briskly, taking Merlin into her own arms. ‘Go and help Lowell drive those two horrors away.’

Arthur looked into his aunt’s eyes.

‘Let me stay with him, at least.. at least until the end.’

‘He’s not going to die Arthur. I will make certain of that. Help my son then we can get out of this goddess forsaken place.’

‘You can save him?’ Hope burgeoning in Arthur’s face like sunshine bursting through cloud.

‘Go!’ she ordered baldly, knowing time was running out.

As soon as Arthur left, sword in hand, she leaned over Merlin and whispered,

‘Merlin, I’m going to need your help with this.’ She augmented her words, pushing them into his mind, past the pain of his injuries to where his conscious mind had escaped. She sensed more than heard him ask,

‘How?’

She touched the side of his head, keeping away from the raw burns on his scalp and face, pushing in the spell which would dispel the poison from his body and heal its effects. Then she poured her own, not inconsiderable, powers into the link she was forging with his mind.

She was quite amazed at his instinctive grasp of magic. Even dying she could feel the awesome power in the poor tortured body in her arms. Goleudith was in no doubt now that this man was the one who would be known to many, many future generations. Gently she began to guide him, correcting and pushing his power so that together they could defeat the poison racing through his system.

Slowly, slowly the deadly tide was stopping. Goleudith could feel Merlin’s mind becoming clearer. It was exhausting work destroying every particle of the magically enhanced liquid and he was still in so much pain from his terrible burns. The burns were distracting him from concentrating solely on the noxious substance in his blood but Goleudith didn’t dare let up guiding Merlin in order to switch to healing his burns before every drop was destroyed.

Outside Arthur and Lowell were guarding the entrance to the broken down building. Morgeuse and Morgana had tired quickly of the game once Morgeuse had told her sister Merlin was dying.

Abruptly Lowell sat back on his haunches, his wolf hound eyes momentarily glowing. He bayed loudly then scuttled inside. 

Arthur could track his progress by the sound of his claws on the stone stairway until near the top when the sound turned to that of bare, human feet. Taking a last look around at the barren landscape Arthur picked up the panniers which Lowell had dropped in one of his attacks against the evil pair of women. The illusory hounds milled about him, as real animals would then moved into the small amount of shadow offered by the lower rooms of the building.

Putting his hand into the nearest pannier Arthur withdrew a pair of breeches. Lowell may be completely comfortable as nature made him, even in front of his mother, but Arthur preferred to see his kinsman in some semblance of clothing.

When he gained the upper room, Goleudith, her eyes closed, was sitting on the floor, Merlin held in her arms, his back against her front, head leaning against her shoulder, his eyes closed, both of them absolutely still. The fact Merlin wasn’t having seizures Arthur took to be a good sign but the remains of blood and fluids spread across Merlin’s face and Goleudith’s shift he took to be a very bad sign. The terrible contrast between Goleudith’s normal skin tone and Merlin’s burns was a renewed shock.

Absently Lowell took the breeches from Arthur’s hands and dressed.

‘Can we get out of here now,’ Arthur whispered.

‘In a while. My mother needs our help.’

‘What can I do?’ Arthur asked, aghast.

‘The oldest form of magic there is.’

‘I don’t know any magic, the use of magic is ….’

‘Yeah, I know, banned in Camelot. But you know this kind. You love him, as a brother. That kind of emotion can strengthen and heal. He needs your strength Arthur, are you willing to give it?’

Arthur didn’t even reply he just nodded, without hesitation.

A wisp of a smile flitted across Lowell’s face as he sat on the dusty floor at Merlin’s side.

‘What do you need me to do?’ Arthur asked quietly.

‘Get comfortable first of all,’ Lowell replied nodding to the other side of Merlin’s body.

Arthur settled, mirroring Lowell’s pose.

‘Take your gloves off and put your hand on my mother’s hand then take my hand.’

As Arthur placed his hand over Goleudith’s hand which was touching Merlin’s shoulder, she turned her grip so his hand was between hers and Merlin. He could feel a subtle warmth and a sort of buzzing feeling passing through his hand from Goleudith and into Merlin. When he took Lowell’s strange, claw-like fingers in his and then Lowell put his other hand between his mother’s and Merlin the feeling increased dramatically. So much so his eyes opened wide and his gasped.

‘Close your eyes and concentrate. Imagine you’re pushing every ounce of affection and friendship you possess into him to heal him.’

Arthur was about to automatically disown ever bearing any warmth towards Merlin when he encountered his cousin’s eye and shut his mouth. There was something very disarming about one’s newly encountered relative being able to read you like a book, Arthur decided, before closing his eyes.

The hum of power creeping up his arms increased, reached a constant pitch then stayed there. In some obscure way it was comfortable and comforting. So much so Arthur lost himself in its intricacies and in his memories of Merlin’s extraordinary loyalty and unswerving devotion. It was one of the few times in Arthur’s life where he was completely humbled by another.

When he next opened his eyes he was beginning to shiver from cold and the light had almost faded. Lowell and Goleudith had gone. He looked to his right and even in the rapidly approaching gloom he could see a most wonderful sight; Merlin’s very pale, normal complexion. Unmarred and unmarked. Without thinking he reached out to touch the other man’s skin. It was cool under his fingertips, alabaster smooth at the temple with the rasp of beard at cheek and chin. A pair of sleepy, very blue eyes opened.

‘Arthur?’ Merlin questioned, ‘Where are we?’

Despite his no hug rule, somehow the next second Arthur had two arms full of his manservant. His very confused, but much more awake, manservant.

‘Arthur, are you alright?’

‘Fine! We’re fine. Come on, we need to get out of here.’

He gave Merlin a hand getting to his feet but the younger man was unsteady, his hands flailing around for balance.

‘How are you feeling?’ Arthur asked, holding him steady.

‘Tired and my head feels like it’s full of cotton wool.’

‘No change there then,’ Arthur quipped.

Ignoring the banter, Merlin asked,

‘Where are we? How did we get here?’

Before Arthur could reply Goleudith shouted from outside,

‘Arthur, can you get Merlin down the stairs please? He might not be very co-ordinated for a while.’

‘Amazing woman, she knows you already!’

‘Arthur what’s going on?’ Merlin asked as he leaned out of the window hole and would have fallen if Arthur hadn’t dragged him back into the room via his jacket. ‘Isn’t that the woman you were chopping wood for? She looks different,’ he went on trying to turn around but Arthur’s powerful grip at his back stopped him.

‘Merlin, don’t worry about that at the moment,’ Arthur replied spinning him around then putting the slighter man over his shoulder and carrying him down the stone stairway to ground level to the accompaniment of Merlin’s cries to be put down.

At the bottom of the stairway Arthur put Merlin on his feet; he immediately swayed and was caught and steadied by Lowell. Merlin twisted around to see who had his shoulders in a hard grip.

Lowell smiled his wolfish smile, and raised his eyebrows.

‘Who’s he?’ Merlin asked Arthur, who was pulling on his gloves, checking his sword and picking up a pack from the ground.

‘Merlin, this is Lowell, Lowell, Merlin.’

‘Pleased to meet you Merlin,’ Lowell responded, without waiting for an answer he turned to Arthur and asked, ‘Ready?’

‘As I’ll ever be.’

Lowell released his grip on Merlin, and handed him to Arthur, who spun him around so he was standing behind his servant. He clamped one arm across the front of Merlin’s chest, holding him firmly to himself then put his other hand across his eyes. Merlin immediately tried to struggle as much as his weakened condition would allow.

‘What is going on?’ he wailed.

‘Trust me Merlin, you’re better off not knowing,’ he replied nodding at Lowell.

Lowell and Goleudith began to intone the words of the spell to get them home.

Merlin went eerily still then said urgently,

‘Arthur! Arthur, I think they’re doing …’

‘..magic. Yes, I know Merlin. Just imagine you can’t hear it,’ Arthur told him comfortingly, closing his own eyes against the strange form of travel.

They landed safely in the clearing outside Goleudith’s home. 

‘Arthur, he’s going to need a lot of rest over the next few days.’

‘I thought you’d healed him. He is alright, isn’t he?’ Arthur asked looking at his sleepy servant, who wasn’t responding at all well.

‘He’s totally exhausted and severely dehydrated. His body and mind need rest. Bring him inside, he can stay here with us.’

Goleudith immediately headed indoors to prepare a room for Merlin.

Arthur relaxed his grip on Merlin, enough so Merlin could turn and face him. Arthur found it quite comical watching Merlin mimicking a fish out of water, his eyes huge in his thin, white face.

‘Arthur?’

‘Yes Merlin?’

‘How…Magic… Your Father!’

‘Yeah, you’re right, probably best we don’t mention it to my Father,’ Arthur agreed with the disjointed sentence.

Behind him Lowell smiled broadly then pressed his two joined hands to the side of his head, the universal sign for sleep.

‘Arthur?’ Merlin squeaked.

‘Merlin. Go to sleep,’ Arthur said, as Lowell laid a massive but gentle hand on Merlin’s shoulder.

Soundlessly Merlin’s eyes rolled up into his head and his knees crumpled. Gracefully Arthur bent and caught him over his shoulder so he could carry him. 

‘You know Lowell, I might be interested in learning that last trick.’

Lowell clapped him companionably on the nearest shoulder as they walked into the house. ‘I might be able to arrange something,’ he replied, grinning. 

 

Now he had Merlin back safe and looking so much better Arthur started to feel a prickle of discomfort. He and Lowell between them had gotten Merlin out of his stained, dirty clothes and into a clean shift then into the bed Goleudith had prepared. Lowell took the clothing and left the room. For a few minutes Arthur sat on the edge of Merlin’s bed which seemed to settle Merlin. Even though he hadn’t actually awoken he had seemed agitated. His breathing became softer and he relaxed into the soft mattress and pillow. The fact that Merlin was even breathing was solely due to the practise of magic. As was the fact he was no longer in excruciating pain from burns to his skin and eyes. 

He let his eyes roam over the smooth, normal skin. The practise of magic had taken Merlin from him, had tortured him for days and had nearly killed him. The practise of magic had also chased the poison from his body, healed his blistered skin and given him back his sight. One type of magic, the kind his father feared and hated, destroyed, damaged and killed, the other kind healed, gave comfort, took away pain and saved lives. But it was all magic. The same magic. Was it fair to lump them all together? Was it just to take away the chance for people to be whole and pain free because one man feared the practise of the other kind? His heart cried out, No! His mind silkily reminded him he’d helped his father suppress magic and by whatever means necessary. God forgive him. 

His head was hammering with the pain of a headache and as he absently reached up to scratch his cheek he winced; his own face was sunburned too. Beside him Merlin’s breathing hitched and he tossed his head on the pillow in the grip of a nightmare. Arthur reached over and touched Merlin’s wrist where it rested across his waist.

‘It’s alright Merlin, you’re safe now. You’re safe.’

Arthur wasn’t totally sure but it looked like Merlin’s lips shaped his name.

‘I’m here, you’re safe,’ he replied softly.

Gradually Merlin’s breathing evened out and he went back to sleep.

‘You have a good touch, Arthur,’ Lowell said quietly from the doorway. ‘He trusts you.’

Arthur nodded.

‘But it was you and your mother who healed him. He would have died in agony, burned and blind without you.’ He looked up at the big dark man. ‘Thank you.’

Lowell’s smile was oddly gentle as he silently agreed with Arthur’s assessment.

‘Why does some magic kill and other magic cure?’ he asked slowly, returning his gaze to Merlin.

‘Magic is magic. It is neither good nor bad. It’s the use to which it’s put,’ Lowell said, putting down a tray on the small table near the bed.

Arthur frowned. ‘So it’s the person who practises magic which makes it either good or evil?’

‘Sort of,’ Lowell replied, handing Arthur a small cup of liquid. ‘Drink that down, it’ll help with that headache you have.’

‘How did you know that?’

‘We all got dehydrated from spending hours in the Valley.’

Obediently Arthur drank the bitter liquid, his face screwing up in reaction. Lowell then handed him a large pot of water which was flavoured with something pleasantly lemony sharp though he could also detect a touch of salt in the mix. 

‘You need to drink a lot of water to replace your fluid loss.’

‘So it’s the person?’ Arthur asked, going back to his first question.

Lowell pulled up a chair at the head of the bed facing Arthur.

‘It can be. It’s mainly the purpose. If you want to cause damage you put that purpose into the spell or the potion. If you want to heal then that’s the purpose.’

Arthur stayed silent digesting the information.

‘Magic isn’t inherently evil. It’s how it’s directed which can make it evil.’ Lowell had opened a small jar from the tray and handed it to Arthur. ‘Put that on your face, it’ll tone down your sunburn.’

‘Could Morgeuse or Morgana have healed Merlin?’ Arthur asked rubbing the greenish cream in; the heat and scratchy pain immediately reducing.

‘It takes many years of practise to hone your purpose to put a body back together but yes, they could have helped. Morgana tried to heal her sister’s many broken bones and torn muscles, without that practise and she refused to ask for help. Morgeuse is scarred and has difficulty walking now.’

‘Healing takes longer to learn?’

‘It’s much easier to destroy than to heal.’

‘Why?’

‘Destruction is magic barely contained, simply released with force. Healing needs direction, guidance, sustained flow. You know that from this afternoon. You freely gave Merlin your energy, we pushed it where it needed to go and all of us kept it going. My mother can tell you more about healing magic. She’s been practising it for a lot longer than I have. Gaius will be able to tell you about healing magic too.’

‘He’s not likely to talk to me about it,’ Arthur stated.

Lowell shrugged. Silently he turned to Merlin, placing his hand on his forehead and closing his own eyes. Quickly Merlin subsided back to sleep.

‘You turned his nightmare? I didn’t even realise he was having another one,’ Arthur said.

‘I heard his breathing change. Practise and observation, that’s all, Arthur.’

‘I thought you’d somehow known by magic. Will the nightmares trouble him for long?’

‘His mind needs to heal from the experience as well as his body.’ Lowell waited a beat before he continued, ‘Those two were determined Merlin wouldn’t survive. He must have really annoyed them both.’

‘He’s my servant, that‘s probably enough for them.’

‘Hurt him and they hurt you?’

Arthur smiled slowly. ‘Don’t tell him that.’

Lowell’s eyes suddenly opened wide looking at the window at Arthur’s back then his attention snapped back to Arthur. ‘You need to leave. Your Knights are very worried and are looking for you. We’ll send Merlin back to you in a few days time when he’s well enough to travel.’

‘What? How do…’ Arthur shut up and extended his hearing beyond the confines of the sick room. Goleudith downstairs, sound of pots and pans and plates, smell of food. Twilight outside. Twilight! Of course his Knights would be looking for him.

Lowell was laughing softly. ‘See! Practise and observation, magic not always necessary!’ 

Arthur found himself returning the grin. Looking past the magic and penchance for stripping off and turning into a wolf or a bird, he was getting to like his new cousin.

 

Percival was the first to see Arthur waiting at the side of the bridle path.

‘There he is!’

All four men broke into a gallop coming to a halt beside Arthur and all four of them spoke at the same time.

‘Where’s …’

‘…concerned when…’

‘… past midday…’

‘… no sign..’

Arthur held up his hand for silence.

‘I’m sorry. Merlin didn’t say but he hit his head when he came off his horse and became ill. The woman is skilled in the knowledge and use of herbs and recommended he not ride for a few days. He’s staying with her until well. I felt duty bound to stay with him until she felt his life was no longer in danger.’

Arthur threw the satchel at his side to Sir Leon.

‘Here. She thought you would all be hungry.’

Given the way the men fell on the contents of the bag Goleudith had judged correctly. However, when the food was divided out Lancelot said, somewhat conscience stricken,

‘We must have taken the woman’s food for the month.’

‘She will have her food replaced and more besides,’ Arthur said decisively, pulling his horse’s head around towards Camelot.

Gaius and Gwen nearly had to be physically restrained from making the long trek to see to Merlin when they heard about his ‘accident’. Uther simply grunted when told of his servant’s bad luck. Luckily Goleudith had had the presence of mind to suggest the cover story to Arthur before he left so he knew Merlin wouldn’t inadvertently reveal anything when he returned home.

 

The next day was filled with court business, which prevented Arthur getting away. Wanting to repay his aunt and cousin as soon as possible, Arthur requested Gawain and Lancelot make the journey in his stead.

When they returned with the evening, and with the full set of supplies he’d sent out he was mystified. Both men had said they couldn’t find the place. They had become lost, wandering in circles several times.

Even though they promised to do better on the morrow Arthur wasn’t really that surprised when they returned home in the same state but rather more frustrated.

The following day Arthur rode out to visit Merlin, armed with many good wishes and the promised food replacements for Goleudith. He went straight to the house without ever losing his way and without actually thinking very hard about where he was going. It almost felt like he was following a well known trail with only half his mind. Given that he had only recently stumbled upon the house because Goleudith wanted to meet him again and the fact two of his Knights had become very lost for two days in a row he was certain she’d lifted the protective illusion just for him.

Merlin was much more awake, looking more like his old self, although even Arthur could see he tired very easily. Gaius had sent a tonic to him which he said he didn’t need as Goleudith had been feeding him the same tonic on a daily basis.

It felt good to see Goleudith and Lowell again too. Lowell had given him much to think over and he was still inwardly digesting their discussion. Goleudith seemed disposed to talk about his mother on this visit. In the two days since he’d been there last she’d managed to find a likeness, drawn in charcoal, of herself, Igraine and Tristan which had been commissioned by their father. Goleudith and her brother were quite alike whilst Igraine displayed a greater delicacy of feature.

‘She was more like our mother; we’re more like our father.’

There was another likeness in the same room this time a painted picture. It was quite obvious the man was Lowell’s father, down to the good humoured expression, dark hair and yellowish hazel eyes. Goleudith saw him looking and said,

‘That’s my Jalen.’ She smiled fondly up at the painting. ‘He was killed in the Great Purge. He was a great healer, much more skilled than me. All his family were healers.’

Arthur murmured he was sorry; it seemed so pitifully inadequate. His father had murdered his sister-in-law’s husband simply because he practised healing with magic. Arthur realised that whatever he said would never be enough.

Goleudith thanked him gravely and said it wasn’t his fault. For a few seconds he stared into his aunt’s eyes. He almost felt as he had when Morgeuse had tricked him with her mind games making him think he’d had conversation with his mother but somehow, he knew Goleudith wasn’t trying to deceive him. Haltingly he found himself telling Goleudith the full story about that time. Her eyes blazed with anger as he finished his story.

‘I can tell you that was not my sister. She would never have done anything to drive a wedge between her husband and her son. She wasn’t like that.’

She closed her eyes, quite obviously making a huge effort to calm herself.

‘I’m sorry Goleudith. I didn’t mean to upset you,’ Arthur apologised.

‘You didn’t. It’s the antics of that black-hearted bitch Morgeuse which upsets me.’ Visibly pulling herself together she took Arthur’s arm and led him the other way across the room. 

In the opposite corner a small dark portrait hung on the wall. It wasn’t a particularly good example of portrait work and Arthur had to squint to see it well. 

‘This is your maternal grandfather, Arthur, Sir Lamorak. After he saw this painting he refused to allow our mother to sit for the artist saying he’d made such a mess of painting him, he wasn’t going to get the chance to ruin our mother’s face!’

Arthur dutifully laughed, silently applauding his grandfather’s common sense. He couldn’t find any likeness between Goleudith and Sir Lamorak from this painting. 

‘It is a very bad likeness,’ Goleudith reminded him.

The remainder of Arthur’s visit passed off well. In the late afternoon he took his leave, his aunt telling him that Merlin should be well enough to make the journey home within three more days. And she was correct. Just before noon on the third day Merlin came riding into the courtyard. It took Arthur sometime to work his way to his manservant’s side through the throng of Knights, courtiers, Gaius, Gwen and even the kitchen staff. Merlin was laughing and assuring everyone he was alright now. Arthur took Merlin’s chin and turned his face left then right.

‘You’re certainly looking much better than the last time I saw you. How do you feel?’

‘I’m feeling a lot better thank you, Sire.’

‘Good then you’ll be ready to get on with some work!’ He handed the reins of Merlin’s mount off to a grinning stable boy, slung his arm across Merlin’s shoulders and began to guide him inside enumerating the tasks in store for him.

‘My dogs need exercising, my clothes need washing, my chambers are a total mess…’

‘Have you been throwing food at the other servants again?’ Merlin asked as they entered the castle properly.

‘No, no, not really,’ Arthur replied, pretending to think about it.

Arthur continued with his list whilst Merlin basked in the company of his friend not really listening.

Although Arthur was complaining about being without his servant for over a week, he had led them not towards his own chambers but to Gaius’ chambers. At the door they stopped.

‘You can come back to work tomorrow, make sure you rest for the remainder of today.’

‘I’m alright Arthur.’

‘Don’t argue!’

‘Alright. I’ll take the rest of the day off and see you tomorrow,’ Merlin agreed with a sunny smile. ‘Oh, I almost forgot. Goleudith asked me to give you this.’ Merlin drew a small, cloth wrapped object from his pocket and presented it to the Prince.

‘What is it?’

‘Open it,’ Merlin suggested.

Carefully Arthur folded back the rough cloth until a small square frame with an oval painting in the centre was revealed. The whole thing was no more than three inches square but in the instant he saw it Arthur knew it was worth more than all his personal wealth to him.

‘Goleudith painted it for you, from how she remembered your mother when she was carrying you. She said to tell you that she looked into the mirror. You’d know what that meant.’

The tiny portrait of the smiling, blond haired, blue eyed woman blurred and swam as Arthur nodded and stared at it. He gulped hard then, for the second time in their relationship, he hugged the pale, slim man.

Tentatively Merlin returned the embrace then more confidently.

‘Welcome home Merlin,’ Arthur said quietly. He gave a big sniff then stepped away.

Merlin nodded his head then said,

‘Goleudith said to keep it out of sight of your father, or he’d wonder where you’d got the portrait.’

‘Good point,’ Arthur agreed, wiping his face.

At the bottom of the stairs below they could hear Gwen and Gaius voices getting nearer.

‘You’d better go inside,’ Arthur told him softly. ‘No doubt Gaius and Gwen will want a full run down on what happened.’ Arthur paused and added, ‘Don’t mention the mirror or this, will you?’

Merlin shook his head and said,

‘I won’t say they’re related to you either.’

Arthur nodded, pressed his shoulder in passing then continued along the corridor to get back to his father for the afternoon session of court business.

Merlin and Gaius were still talking hours after supper had ended. Arthur had given orders for food to be sent to Gaius’ chambers from the palace kitchens so they had dined extremely well that evening. Gaius finally got to hear the truth of what had happened to Merlin as well.

‘Goleudith told me what they did. It was revenge on me Gaius. Morgana set it up so Arthur had to use magic to get to me then he accidentally poisoned me. If he hadn’t used magic, leaving me in the sun without cover or water, as they did, would have killed me. Either way they wanted me dead.’

The old man had simply hugged his surrogate son for a long time afterwards.

‘I’m extremely glad Arthur cares enough about you to use magic,’ he finally said. ‘Has he said anything to you about that?’

‘We’ve not really had chance to talk about it. Usually Goleudith or Lowell were nearby so he wouldn’t have said anything. Did you know Goleudith? Did you know she was Arthur’s aunt?’

Gaius certainly remembered Arthur’s aunt Goleudith but he had assumed she’d prudently taken her child, after her husband had been murdered, and left the country. Merlin was full of praise for the way Goleudith and her son had cared for him then he admitted that both of them knew he had magic. 

‘Why on earth did you tell her?’ Gaius asked. ‘Not that she’ll say anything but the fewer people who know the better.’

‘I didn’t, she just knew, both of them knew. They said they can sense magic in others. I didn’t even know that was possible,’ Merlin replied.

Gaius looked very thoughtful before saying, ‘Some people can but it’s a rare gift. You can sometimes sense when objects are enchanted so I’m assuming it’s a similar gift only they sense it in people.’

Merlin nodded. ‘They taught me some of their healing spells whilst I was recovering and a spell to make anyone forget that they’ve seen magic done.’

‘That one will come in very handy for you! I take it Arthur still doesn’t know about your gift?’

‘They promised not to say anything to Arthur.’

‘Does he know they practise magic?’

‘I can’t remember a lot of what happened, only what I’ve been told. If he does know he hasn’t said anything to me.’

Gaius nodded then said, 

‘Now, to bed with you, Arthur will no doubt want you to start on that list of jobs first thing in the morning.’

 

Life began to return back to normal. With Arthur becoming much more heavily involved with running the kingdom it was a few weeks before he had time to spare to go out riding. Getting away from his company of Knights was the next problem. They were very unwilling to allow him to leave the Citadel with just Merlin for company, although Sir Lancelot was much more relaxed when he heard Merlin would be accompanying the Prince. In the end Arthur had to almost order the four men back to Camelot. Heaving a sigh of relief and giving a smile at their loyalty Arthur turned and rode into the woodland with Merlin beside him.

It was a fine morning for riding; warm enough to be pleasant without a cloak although both men carried one, the scent of late spring flowers and herbs threading the air and a playful breeze keeping them cool.

They talked of seeing Goleudith and Lowell again. Gaius had requested that Merlin ask if they knew of a recipe to help those who suffered with the summer sneezing disorder, as the season was nearly upon them.

‘If she doesn’t know she may have access to her husband’s notes. Jalen’s family were apparently noted healers,’ Arthur said.

‘Lowell mentioned his father had been a healer.’

‘I want to see how else that magic mirror of hers can be used. It could be a useful tool for security purposes.’

It was a few seconds before Arthur realised that Merlin’s eyes had gone huge and round.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘You know about that?’ Merlin stammered. He hadn’t realised just how much Arthur knew.

‘Of course I know!’ he answered irritably.

Merlin had grown even paler than usual, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard and swayed in the saddle.

Arthur made a grab for his arm to steady him.

‘For God’s sake Merlin, stay on the horse this time.’

‘What are you going to do?’ Merlin asked quietly when the buzzing in his ears had stopped.

‘Nothing! And I don’t want you saying anything either. Understand?’

Merlin nodded and stayed silent. The pleasant trip out now seemed fraught with hidden dangers.

‘You don’t remember all of what happened, do you?’ Arthur finally asked.

‘I remember some bits. Morgana sticking that sword in my back then they took me somewhere. I don’t know where but it was so hot but I couldn’t move. Then it hurt. Everything was either burning or so cold that burned too. I thought I heard your voice. Then someone gave me water to drink but that burned from the inside as well.’

‘That was me Merlin. I’m so sorry. I forced the poison down your throat. I thought I was helping but I wasn’t.’

‘That was Morgana and Morgeuse. They told me the only water for miles around was in that bucket and the longer it took for someone to get to me the more of the poison from the bottle above the bucket would seep into the water. They didn’t intend for me to survive, Arthur.’

‘I never would have believed Morgana could do something like that if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.’

‘They used magic to get me to that place. How did you get there?’ Merlin asked hesitantly.

Arthur was uncomfortably silent for quite a while before saying,

‘I want you to promise that what I say goes no further. It affects other people and I don’t want them to get hurt.’

‘I promise.’

‘I got there the same way. Goleudith and Lowell agreed to help me find you.’

Arthur told Merlin everything although for Merlin’s peace of mind he glossed over the injuries they’d inflicted upon him.

‘I participated in that little healing circle as well. Morgana and Morgeuse had tortured you for days already, I couldn’t leave you there, defenceless.’

‘Thank you, I’m very, very glad you didn’t leave me with them,’ Merlin replied very sincerely. Whilst his memory of events was sketchy, his memory of the pain wasn’t.

There was a silence for a little while before Merlin asked,

‘So, do you have magic?’

‘No Merlin, I don’t, thank Heavens. They just used my memories of you and took some of my energy.’ He turned to look at Merlin’s flawless skin, mentally seeing the raw burned flesh. ‘And I’m glad they could and did,’ he added quietly, touching Merlin’s cheek without thinking about it.

The throwaway quip died stillborn on Merlin’s lips at the expression on Arthur’s face.

‘Was it that bad?’

Arthur nodded.

‘Is that why you keep touching my face?’

‘What? I don’t!’

‘You do. I meant to ask you about it. Sir Leon noticed the other day and said something.’

After a silence Arthur said,

‘I must apologise again, Merlin. I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was doing that.’

‘It’s alright, now I know why you’re doing it.’

After a further silence Arthur asked,

‘Is that why Leon’s been going on and on about the brothel in Marwen Green?’

‘Probably,’ Merlin admitted laughing.

‘Oh God!’ Arthur groaned.

 

Further into the forest trail Arthur reined in and listened. For once Merlin didn’t say a word. He looked sharply as his manservant.

‘Do you hear that?’ Arthur asked.

‘You mean no birds and no wolves running through the trees with you?’

‘Wolf,’ he corrected absently.

Merlin’s head was cocked in silent question.

‘Yes, I know Lowell can change into a wolf.’

Merlin raised his eyebrows but said nothing, he was distracted. He could sense magic being used some distance away. In addition the breeze brought a scent of burning to his nose.

‘Arthur!’ 

‘I smell it too.’ He didn’t need to order Merlin into a gallop, he was already way ahead of him.

The smell of burning grew into a stench as they neared the clearing where Goleudith’s house stood, only it stood there no longer. A smouldering ruin greeted them. What was left of the walls were blackened stumps, the roof had collapsed, the gardens at the back were a total wreck. Arthur slid from his horse, drawing his own sword and tossing his spare to Merlin, who caught it like an expert. 

‘Keep your eyes peeled Merlin, if you see either Morgana or Morgeuse, shout and use the sword.’

Merlin nodded. The whole area sang with magic to him. This hadn’t been a house fire; it was the result of a battle between magicians. He could see the marks on the walls where fireballs had bombarded the building before bringing it down. It would have been too much of a coincidence had Morgana and Morgeuse not been involved. Above them a barn owl, no doubt frightened out of its usual resting place, circled the clearing erratically, hooting in alarm. Arthur glanced up noticing the owl was injured, apart from wishing he’d brought his bow along so he could put the creature out of it’s misery, he forgot about it in his increasingly frantic search for his aunt and cousin.

They circled the remains of the building but found nothing. Arthur was loathe to send Merlin out into the forest to search alone, he knew they stood a better chance of staying alive if they were together. Merlin’s sharper ears caught a sound carried on the wind; jangling harness and men’s voices. 

‘Horses, heading this way.’

They caught their own horse’s bridles and headed into the fringe of the forest which protected them from sight but afforded them a good view across the cleaning now that the house had been levelled.  
Before the horsemen came into sight Merlin grinned, he recognised the voices and heaved a sigh of relief. Annoyance and relief fought for dominance on Arthur’s face.

‘Sorry Sire, we had orders from the King not to let you out of our sight,’ Sir Leon explained when he saw the stormy expression on the Prince’s face.

Arthur nodded in acknowledgement.

‘What is this place?’ Lancelot asked.

‘It is, was, the home of kinsmen of mine. Kin my father doesn’t approve of. Help me search for them. An older woman and a man about my age. Lancelot, you and Merlin take that side, Percival and Gawain take the lower ground, Leon with me.’

None of the Knights argued with the orders issued. Arthur stopped Lancelot briefly and said,

‘If you see the Lady Morgana or Morgeuse, kill them on sight.’

‘Sire?’ 

‘You heard,’ he growled.

Silently Lancelot and Merlin sped into the trees looking for any sign that anyone had been that way. 

Further into the trees Merlin found grasses which had blood smeared on them and broken branches. He pointed this out to Lancelot but Lancelot was listening, his head down.

‘Ahead,’ he whispered, pointing.

Together they moved towards the sounds of rustlings. As they drew nearer the rustling resolved into low venomous voices and deep throated growling. Before he and Lancelot rounded the last tree Merlin almost knew what he would find. 

Lowell, in wolf form, blood liberally smeared across his fur was growling at two people, a woman and a boy. The woman was bleeding from bites to her arms and from the way she was limping her legs hadn’t escaped Lowell’s teeth either. As they watched, the boy raised his hand, lightening flying from his palm; Lowell’s eyes flashed gold as the lightening raked along his flank singeing his fur then into the ground raising a plume of smoke as it did so. The growl briefly turned into a short yelp. The wolf’s flanks and chest were heaving, fresh blood running down from a wound near his throat and another one high on his hind leg. It didn’t take a genius to see Lowell was badly injured. The woman lifted her hand as did the boy again, both holding their hands high to gain maximum impact. Just as they discharged the lightening bolts Merlin darted forward saying,

‘Skildus!’

The lightening crackled over the shield Merlin had erected to protect Lowell then dissipated. The two turned to face him as one.

‘You!’ Morgana screamed then looked past Merlin for the other magician. The one who had protected the wolf. 

‘Emrys,’ Mordred whispered harshly.

Morgana looked down at her companion then at Merlin.

‘That’s just Merlin,’ she snarled.

Mordred looked up at her and nodded. ‘He is Emrys.’

Morgana’s eyes opened wide as she stared at Merlin which gave Lancelot the chance he was looking for. Using Merlin’s body for cover he took a dagger from his belt then quickly threw it at Morgana whilst she was distracted. 

Without really looking at the speeding knife she waved her hand, the knife turned and flew back to Lancelot burying itself in his shoulder through his chain mail. Again she moved her hand, making a circular motion this time. The knife twisted in the wound and Lancelot dropped to the ground with a cry of agony.

Merlin didn’t dare take his eyes off the two in front of him.

Recovering well Morgana said, 

‘Well, I didn’t realise what august company I’d been keeping in Camelot. It certainly explains a few things about you, like how you manage to survive time and time again.’

Merlin didn’t reply.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you have magic?’ she demanded. ‘You knew what I was going through, you could have helped me.’

‘I did try to help you. I took you to the Druids,’ Merlin said. 

‘They did nothing! The only Druid who helped me is Mordred,’ she spat back, putting her hand on the boy’s head. ‘Why do you help Uther? You know what he is. You should be working with us.’

‘I help Arthur. Not Uther.’

‘They’re the same. Emrys is prophesied to bring magic back to the land, how can you do that if you work for the men who persecute us for the gifts we were born with?’

‘If I am destined to bring magic back, it won’t be your kind of magic, Morgana. The kind fuelled by evil and hatred.’

‘There is no other kind,’ she replied, taking a step closer to Merlin.

‘You’re wrong. You are so very wrong. There’s Lowell’s kind of magic. Goleudith’s kind of magic. The kind that builds and heals.’

Morgana snorted, ‘The weak kind for old women who can only sit by the fire making love potions for fools!’

Mordred lifted his hand gradually building a thunderbolt whilst Merlin’s attention was on Morgana. Suddenly he turned and threw it at Lowell.

Merlin hadn’t been as distracted as Mordred imagined.

‘Ablgan! Edhwierft!’

The bolt turned over in midair and returned to Mordred. The boy having barely enough time to shield himself before it exploded, throwing both Morgana and Mordred to the ground. As Morgana fell to the ground a sword whistled through the air and embedded itself in the tree where she had been standing moments before. Her eyes widened in shock as she beheld Arthur running towards them, murder in his face and his favourite dagger already out of its sheath and in his hand. Making her decision quickly before Arthur got near enough to throw the dagger as well, she grabbed Mordred by the hand both of them scrambling to their feet as they got themselves into shelter behind a tree before the tell tale sounds of them disappearing reached Merlin’s ears.

Arthur continued running towards the place where they had disappeared giving Merlin a precious few seconds to run to Lancelot. The Knight was using the bole of a tree as a support, his face white and sweating with pain, shock and blood loss. He was holding onto the knife, his chain mail rusty with spilled blood.

As Merlin knelt to treat him, Lancelot shook his head.

‘I’m done for Merlin, protect Arthur,’ he gasped out.

‘No, you’re not!’ 

Merlin took hold of the knife hilt, his other hand wrapped around the blade where it was protruding from Lancelot’s body, and began to pull it from the wound, all the time intoning words too softly for Lancelot to make out through the roaring in his head. As the knife moved out, the sickening pain began to clear, the blood flow growing less too. By the time the knife lay in Merlin’s hand, Lancelot knew the cut and mutilated muscle, lung and blood vessels were back as they had been and the wound was closed. He looked up at Merlin saying quietly,

‘You’ve saved my life, thank you.’

Merlin nodded once then turned to the wolf.

‘Merlin, be careful. The animal can still lash out.’

‘He won’t, trust me,’ Merlin said, taking off his jacket and moving towards the wolf. ‘Lowell, Lowell it’s me, Merlin.’

Wearily the wolf lifted his head and looked at him. With the peculiar shimmering Merlin had seen before, Lowell lay where the wolf had been. Blood covered him from head to foot. Quickly Merlin covered him with his jacket. He pulled off his scarf trying to staunch the blood flowing from a sword wound in his chest.

Lancelot stood preparing to defend Merlin against yet another magician but a further glance at the other man assured Lancelot he wouldn’t be doing Merlin any damage, he was too near death. Lancelot was further surprised when Arthur ran back down the slope and laid a hand on the dying man’s shoulder.

‘Lowell, it’s Arthur.’

Lowell coughed, his lips and teeth bloodied. ‘Find mother,’ he gasped. ‘Owl, had to turn her.’

‘Look around, see if you can see her,’ Merlin said, desperate to get Arthur away.

Arthur looked up and nodded to an inordinately confused Lancelot.

‘Lancelot, with me, I’ll explain later.’

Merlin tossed his head telling Lancelot as clearly as possible to get Arthur out of the way for a while. As soon as Arthur’s back was turned, Merlin pressed his hand to the chest wound and murmured a spell, his eyes glowing the deepest gold with the force he was putting into the enchantment. The flow from the wound slowed a little but the gurgling breath sounds didn’t abate any.

‘Who did this?’ Merlin asked, preparing to try another spell. ‘Was it Morgana?’

Lowell’s head moved in the affirmative.

Merlin redoubled his effort with the chest wound putting every ounce he could into rebuilding the internal damage and closing the skin. As he worked he could feel the number of wounds and burns Lowell had sustained combining to take their toll on his body. The chest wound finally closed then Merlin found another one in between his ribs plus a large wound on the back of his thigh which was pouring blood. Merlin muttered again, the wound on his leg closing immediately. The burns could wait a few minutes until he’d healed the sword and knife injuries.

‘I’m sorry Lowell, I’m so sorry,’ Merlin whispered, close to crying. ‘This is because you rescued me, isn’t it?’

Lowell caught Merlin’s hand as he pressed it to his chest to try again to close the wound there. With the faintest hint of his usual smile, he breathed,

‘Worth it.’ His grip loosened and his last breath rattled in his throat.

There was the most peculiar beat of distilled silence before a scream of pure anguish was ripped from two throats; one bird, one human.

‘Noooooo!’

In a perfect circle around the two men, trees shattered, huge splinters of green wood hurtling down to the forest floor in a deadly rain. Despairing at what his survival had cost, Merlin threw his body across Lowell and drew a bubble of protection around them both as they were buried under the wood.

It took a while for Arthur and his Knights to move the shattered wood from the two men underneath. As the last shards of wood were removed Merlin lifted his tear stained face to Arthur.

‘I’m sorry Arthur, I couldn’t save him. He was too badly wounded.’

Arthur nodded silently looking down at his cousin.

‘They were attacked because of me,’ he said very quietly. ‘He died because of me.’

‘No! Morgana, Mordred and probably Morgeuse did this, not you. Remember that and honour his memory.’ Arthur waited until Merlin nodded before giving orders for his Knights to begin building a funeral pyre.

The owl which had screamed with him, watched silently from a distance. It didn’t take long for Merlin and Arthur to make the connection between the owl in the branches above them and Goleudith. 

Gently Merlin coaxed her down to ground level and picked her up. Without too much effort he had quickly healed the bird of her physical injuries realising as he did so she’d been healing herself as well. For good measure he uttered the forgetfulness spell as well given that Arthur had been standing in front of him at the time. Arthur hadn’t reacted to his whispered words but he thought it would be prudent.

Gently Arthur reached out and touched the blood stained feathers saying,

‘It must have been Lowell’s blood on the feathers.’

His eyes threatened to start from his head when the little bird lifted up her face whilst his aunt’s voice in his mind said,

‘Some of it was Lowell’s some of it was mine.’

‘Goleudith? You can speak?’

The bird nodded.

‘Are you hearing what I’m hearing?’ Arthur asked Merlin, who nodded.

‘What happened? Why are you still a bird?’ Arthur whispered.

‘Lowell changed me. I was injured. It’s easier to treat sometimes if you’re in the guise of a smaller animal. M…I healed myself but I can’t change back, I couldn’t even help Lowell.’

‘I’m so sorry about Lowell,’ Arthur murmured, keeping half an eye on his men who were engaged in building the pyre. He’d already sworn Lancelot to silence but he wasn’t too sure it would work on everyone else, especially Sir Leon. ‘Goleudith, you can’t stay here alone. Will you return to Camelot with us?’ Arthur asked.

‘And what will I do there?’ she asked plaintively.

‘I can keep you safe until you manage to get yourself back to human again,’ Arthur replied.

‘You’re making the assumption I will be able to do that, Arthur. What if I can’t?’

‘Then I will care for you as long as I live,’ Arthur pledged.

There was a very long silence before Goleudith said,

‘My sister would be so very proud of you Arthur.’

Standing side by side as they had at Will’s pyre, Merlin and Arthur watched as the flames consumed Lowell’s body, wrapped in the Prince’s own cloak and placed reverently on the platform, before the remains of his home, by Arthur’s Knights. The four Knights stood in a loose semi-circle behind Arthur, keeping a wary watch as well as respecting Merlin and Arthur’s grief. Merlin sniffed and wiped his eyes, trying to make it look as if the smoke was making them water. Arthur glanced at him then away.

‘I know, no man deserves my tears, you don’t have to say it again,’ Merlin said quietly.

Arthur gripped Merlin’s shoulder and replied softly,

‘I was wrong about that. Some men do deserve tears.’

The little barn owl watched, unblinkingly, from the folds of Merlin’s jacket. 

 

Less than three months into her new living arrangements Goleudith had endeared herself to Arthur’s Knights, Gwen and any other servant who came into her orbit. She only ‘spoke’ to Merlin, Arthur and Gaius. She could choose who she spoke with and she sensibly limited the number. Gaius, who had been told the truth, treated her with the utmost respect. They spent many a happy hour conferring over various potions and recipes and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. She taught Merlin many more spells for healing which he worked at diligently. Several times Merlin and Gaius had asked if, perhaps, it wouldn’t be more convenient for Goleudith to live in the physician’s chambers rather than in Arthur’s chambers but Arthur always refused, saying it wouldn’t be seemly for his aunt to live in anything other than royal apartments and Goleudith was always swayed by Arthur’s blandishments, especially when she was feeling particularly bereft about her son.

She was everyone’s favourite, except for Uther. 

Uther was initially puzzled at Arthur’s new pet. The owl wasn’t the greatest hunter, showed little inclination for field sports at all. It preferred to fly free and Arthur seemed disinclined to fetter it with jesses around its feet. It also ran wild throughout the castle but no-one, apart from Uther, appeared to mind this state of affairs. The bird came and went through the open window, to and from its perch during council meetings, as it pleased and he always felt it was staring at him. Added to which, recently, it had begun to regurgitate owl pellets and leave them on his dinner plate. When he remonstrated with his son about the bird’s behaviour, Arthur dismissed his concerns.

‘She’s an owl father, owls stare.’

‘Why must the thing always be here?’ Uther muttered querulously. ‘Its table manners are execrable.’

‘Owls produce pellets. That’s how they’re made. Besides I like her, she pleases me,’ Arthur replied, then smoothly turned the topic back to court business.

Later, when they were alone, Arthur asked his aunt to please stop upsetting his father.

‘I know you have good reason, but please, for my sake, don’t keep staring at him! And don’t drop any more pellets on his dinner plate!’

‘Oh very well, just for you Arthur,’ Goleudith replied, with less than good grace. 

Arthur didn’t know whether it had been Uther’s tone when speaking about the owl or Uther and Goleudith’s obvious animosity towards each other but that night he dreamt about the attack on Merlin, and Lowell’s death. Sometimes his mind mixed them up; it was Merlin he held in his arms, bloody and singed, as he died on the forest floor and Lowell who had been left in the roofless building to alternately bake and freeze. He tossed and turned, his heart hammering against his ribs. Towards morning he re-lived the nightmare of finding Merlin, burned and blind, in the valley. Merlin’s red and blistered face turned towards him as he entered the stone room, his eyelids screwed shut on his sightless eyes, skeletal hands, with the remains of burned flesh clinging to the bone, held out in entreaty. Merlin’s voice crying out,

‘Arthur, Arthur, help me please! Please!’

Suddenly Lowell was standing beside him, in his wolf form. The animal turned and spoke to him, saying conversationally, 

‘You can’t leave him like that Arthur. You know it’s against the law.’

Morgana materialised at the back of the room in flurry of dust and leaves.

‘You’ve got to do it Arthur. You can’t have him walking around Camelot like that,’ she told him, in all seriousness. ‘It’s against the law.’

His dream self walked over to the bucket of poisoned water and filled the cup to brimming point then carried it carefully over to Merlin. Gently he supported Merlin and pressed to the cup to his lips saying,

‘It’ll be quick Merlin, you have my word. I won’t let you suffer,’ Arthur promised.

‘Please Arthur, no. You let the wolf and the owl live, why not me?’

‘Shush Merlin, shshsh. Morgana knows about you now, I can’t protect you anymore,’ Arthur told Merlin sadly.

Suddenly Merlin opened his eyes, brilliant gold shone from their depths.

Arthur quickly turned Merlin’s face towards his own chest to shield those telltale gold eyes from the sight of anyone else in the room. Merlin was screaming now, one word, over and over.

‘Arthur, Arthur, ARTHUR!’

Arthur jerked awake, the hand on his shoulder still shaking him. He yelled when he turned and found Merlin peering at him closely.

‘Don’t do that!’ he shouted as his servant, who had moved back several feet.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ Merlin asked.

Arthur was quickly getting his bearings. It was a dream, only a dream. He flopped back onto his pillow and wiped his face with a sigh of relief.

‘Bad dream?’ Merlin asked.

Arthur nodded, letting his breath out slowly. 

‘Want to talk about it?’

Arthur swung his legs over the side of his bed.

‘I dreamt someone had foisted you on me as my manservant. Gods, it was horrible!’

‘Very funny! Do you want your breakfast or not?’

Later on when Arthur had left to attend to the business of running the kingdom Goleudith flew in and landed on her perch to chat to Merlin as he was cleaning Arthur’s chambers. She was dying to tell him all about her latest method of discreetly torturing Uther.

‘You should have seen his face when I sat on that perch staring at him for more than an hour. He was positively squirming.’

Merlin was laughing as he said,

‘Please be careful Goleudith. Uther’s temper is very uncertain these days. He may decide to ban you from court and that would upset Arthur.’

‘It’s Uther’s guilty conscience which is upsetting him!’ she replied waspishly, knowing she was acting childishly but unable to stop herself.

‘Please, promise me?’ Merlin asked, putting on his most winsome smile.

For answer she tossed her head and flew out of the window.

Down in the courtyard below the Knights were gathering in preparation to ride out with the King and the Prince. Happy shouting drifted up to Merlin as he leaned on the windowsill to watch the spectacle. Arthur turned, saw him watching and waved. Merlin returned the greeting as the company set off. Not thirty seconds later Merlin saw Goleudith come out of nowhere, swoop low over the King then a large white stain spread all over the back of his cloak. Uther gave the owl a suspicious look then wriggled around to look over his shoulder. 

Merlin really didn’t need to hear him in order to know what Uther was saying. The way his mouth moved and the way he glared at the owl as it hooted softly from the branches of a nearby tree was enough to give him the picture.

Merlin clapped a hand over his mouth to stop the sound of his laughter carrying to the King. Below, Arthur had his head down, his shoulders shaking, as did a goodly number of the company of Knights. The other servants in the courtyard weren’t so discreet and were laughing openly.

‘It’s a sign of good luck, my lord,’ the steward on his left told the King seriously.

Uther didn’t seem to believe that as he roared,

‘Arthur! Do something about that bloody bird before I have it shot!’ 

Strangely enough, that evening, Arthur finally agreed that perhaps it would be more convenient if Goleudith wanted to move into the physician’s chambers with Gaius and Merlin, given that she spent most of her time in there anyway. It just happened to be coincidental that Gaius’ chambers were on the opposite side of the castle from Uther’s. 

 

Translations

Skildus – Shield  
Ablgan! Edhwierft! – Deflect! Return!


End file.
